Immortality Starts With Face

Later, as the moon began its slow descent towards the horizon, I was in my bedroom, contemplating the strange, exhausting turns the day had taken, when there was a soft, hesitant knock on my door.

I opened it to find Ruolan standing there, and for a moment, the breath caught in my throat. The woman who now stood before me was far from the composed, perfectly-attired aide I was accustomed to.

She was dressed in simple, unadorned night robes of a pale, moonlight-colored spirit silk, the fabric so fine it seemed to float around her, hinting at the graceful, powerful lines of the flawless — now Foundation Establishment-level — body that lay beneath, without revealing any skin.

Her long, dark hair, usually bound in an intricate, severe style, was now loose and unbound, cascading over her shoulders and down her back like a silken waterfall of polished ebony.

In the soft, warm glow of the lanterns from my room, her skin seemed to possess a soft luminescence of its own, perhaps the result of her recent breakthrough.

Her face, free from the mask of professional duty, was a canvas of profound, vulnerable emotion. A warm, delicate blush bloomed high on her cheeks, a stark, beautiful contrast to her pale skin.

Her dark eyes, no longer the meek eyes of a common servant, but now holding the power of a true cultivator, were filled with a turbulent, uncertain light.

The air around her carried not just her familiar, faint scent of jasmine, but something new—the clean, fresh fragrance of pure Qi, like mountain air after a rainstorm.

….And she was visibly fidgeting, her slender fingers twisting the fabric of her sleeve, her gaze fixed on the floor, clearly uncomfortable and struggling with a courage that had taken all night to build.

"Master?" she began, her voice barely a whisper.

Sensing her turmoil, I stepped back, freeing the passage for her.

"Come in, Ruolan."

She entered, and I closed the door behind us, the soft click of the latch echoing in the silent room. She stood in the center of the room, still not looking at me, and began to speak, her voice low and earnest.

"Master, I… I came to thank you. For everything. For what you have done for me… and for my family." She took a deep, shuddering breath, as if steeling herself.

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"When… when we first arrived in Qingshan… you were a negligent and callous man."

I raised an eyebrow.

"Well, thanks a lot," I said, a hint of joking protest in my tone.

She held up a hand, her expression deadly serious, her eyes finally lifting to meet mine.

"Please, Master. Let me finish."

I nodded, and she continued with an uncharacteristic boldness.

"You were bitter vagrant and wastrel. You drank yourself to a stupor nearly every day. You sought the company of… inappropriate women. You insulted the Su family, and your fiancée, at every opportunity. You saw cause for offense everywhere, and were ready for a confrontation at the slightest hint of a reason — real or imagined. You cared for nothing, and for no one. In short, you were a man determined to burn himself to ash."

Her gaze grew distant, her voice dropping to a haunted whisper.

"And then came the night you 'died.' I was there, Master. I was the one who lead you to your room. I watched you succumb to that poison, and there was nothing I could do to stop it. I watched your body grow cold. There was no breath. There was no heartbeat. Even your Qi… it was completely snuffed out, like a candle in a storm. You were gone."

She looked deeply into my eyes, her own eyes filled with a profound, unanswerable question.

"I do not understand how it was possible for your soul to return. I do not know, nor do I care, if the story you told me about that Immortal was the entire truth. All I know… is that from that moment onward, you have been a different person. A better person. A better master. A better man. The man I have grown proud to serve."

Her voice grew stronger, filled with fierce emotion.

"You have given me and my family a future beyond our wildest dreams. You protected me from the wrath of your own family, even taking a blow that was meant for me upon your own body. And that night above the Whispering Peaks… the night of the sky pirate attack, you tried to save my life, giving me those stealth pills, telling me to run while you stayed behind to resist against impossible odds."

I started to sputter in protest, but my excuses died upon my lips as she raised her hand once again.

"No, Master. You know I am right. Nearly anyone else would have used those pills and disappeared in the wilderness, taking their chances on the run. You… you were willing to sacrifice yourself while saving a mere servant."

She took a step closer, her cheeks now flushed with a deep, crimson blush.

"I am… proud to be yours, Master," she half-whispered, her voice thick with an emotion I could not name. "My life, my very soul, are yours. I just… wanted you to know that."

To my system-enhanced Martial observational skills, her body was now a storm of conflicting signals.

She visibly fidgeted, shifting her balance from one foot to another, her hands clenching and unclenching.

Did she want to kowtow? To flee? To… close the distance further?

Then, as if overwhelmed by her own emotional declaration, she suddenly performed a deep, formal bow, her head bending low. Before I could say a word, she straightened up, turned, and left the room -- as quickly as she could without breaking into an outright run -- leaving me alone in the silent, moonlit bedchamber.

I stood there for a long time.

The scent of her jasmine perfume lingered in the air.